Fighter Jets, Aircraft Carriers, and The Church

What’s that in the ocean? It’s a fortress! No, it’s an airport. No, it’s a hotel. Wait, I think it’s a hospital.

It just so happens that an aircraft carrier is all of those things and then some. If you’ve ever walked on the deck of the USS Yorktown, retired at Patriot’s Point in Charleston, SC, you know how overwhelmingly enormous those things are.

Just think about a floating hotel where hundreds of sailors and pilots live for weeks and months at a time, while also carrying I don’t know how many airplanes in its hangar. Those fighter jets literally takeoff from a ship, fly into enemy territory, do their thing, and return only to land on that same ship. If that’s not mindboggling, you watch too much TV.

Well, have you ever thought about comparing the church’s Lord’s Day activities to an aircraft carrier? While I’ll grant you that New Testament isn’t remotely concerned about swarms of jets or floating airports, this is a reasonable comparison.

Christians live their lives out in the world which is, by definition, enemy territory. OK, creation declares the glory of God (Psalm 19) and there isn’t “one square inch of creation over which Christ doesn’t say, ‘Mine’” (Abraham Kuyper). But we are commanded to put on the whole armor of God (Ephesians 6) for a reason – we are at war, spiritual though it may be. And in that sense, we Christians are like fighter jets being sent out to complete our assigned mission(s) each and every week. We may not have the same assignment. But we all have an assignment.

What happens to those planes at the end of their mission? Where do they go and what do they do when their assignment has been carried out for that day? They return to the carrier to be checked for damage, patched up, refueled, and prepared for the next mission.

That’s exactly what worship on the Lord’s Day is intended to accomplish for the believer. We need to be checked for damage, patched up, refueled, and prepared for another mission, another week of battle. In that regard, the Lord’s Day activities of the church are like an aircraft carrier.

This has practical applications and implications, doesn’t it?

For example, what is a Benediction at the end of the service except a “good word,” a blessing from God to His people, promising his presence and care with them as they fly their respective missions.

Another implication serves as a warning – why would we skip that? Imagine the plane that calls back to the Chief Officer and says, “Nah, I’m just gonna keep flying a little longer. I don’t need to come in yet.” You’d take his wings the moment he landed and charge him with insurrection and endangering the fleet. But how easy it is for us to excuse irregular participation in the life of the church?

One more implication is a question – Why would a fighter jet want to take off sooner than necessary? But isn’t that what we do when we only give half the Lord’s Day to worship and rest and the remainder to our work or to our pleasure? Would we only fill half of the fuel tank in a fighter jet preparing for a mission? Would you only bandage half the of wound or only give a portion of the mission assignment to a pilot and still expect him to be successful? Why, then, do we check the box, having only attended morning worship, as though we’ve done enough? How much more would we be equipped for our weekly mission if we give the whole of the Lord’s Day to God’s glory and our spiritual nourishment!

It’s in worship that believers are repaired, refreshed, and refueled. It’s a joyful and diligent use of the Lord’s Day and the ministry of the local church which equips us for serving in our various and respective areas of kingdom work throughout the week. It’s worship, therefore, to which we ought to give our best energy and delight.